A KIDNAPED SANTA CLAUS

A Kidnapped Santa Claus 1



A Kidnapped Santa Claus




By L. Frank Baum


Santa Claus lives in the Laughing Valley, where stands the big, rambling
castle in which his toys are manufactured. His workmen, selected from the
ryls, knooks, pixies and fairies, live with him, and every one is as busy as
can be from one year's end to another. It is called the Laughing Valley
because everything there is happy and gay.The brook chuckles to itself as it
leaps rollicking between its green banks; the wind whistles merrily in the
trees; the sunbeams dance lightly over the soft grass, and the violets and
wild flowers look smilingly up from their green nests.To laugh one needs to
be happy; to be happy one needs to be content. And throughout the
Laughing Valley of Santa Claus contentment reigns supreme.


On one side is the mighty Forest of Burzee. At the other side stands the huge
mountain that contains the Caves of the Daemons. And between them the
Valley lies smiling and peaceful. One would thing that our good old Santa
Claus, who devotes his days to making children happy, would have no
enemies on all the earth; and, as a matter of fact, for a long period of time he
encountered nothing but love wherever he might go.

But the Daemons who live in the mountain caves grew to hate Santa Claus
very much, and all for the simple reason that he made children happy. The
Caves of the Daemons are five in number. A broad pathway leads up to the
first cave, which is a finely arched cavern at the foot of the mountain, the
entrance being beautifully carved and decorated. In it resides the Daemon of
Selfishness. Back of this is another cavern inhabited by the Daemon of
Envy. The cave of the Daemon of Hatred is next in order, and through this
one passes to the home of the Daemon of Malice-situated in a dark and
fearful cave in the very heart of the mountain.

I do not know what lies beyond this. Some say there are terrible pitfalls
leading to death and destruction, and this may very well be true. However,
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from each one of the four caves mentioned there is a small, narrow tunnel
leading to the fifth cave-a cozy little room occupied by the Daemon of
Repentance.

And as the rocky floors of these passages are well worn by the track of
passing feet, I judge that many wanderers in the Caves of the Daemons have
escaped through the tunnels to the abode of the Daemon of Repentance, who
is said to be a pleasant sort of fellow who gladly opens for one a little door
admitting you into fresh air and sunshine again. Well, these Daemons of the
Caves, thinking they had great cause to dislike old Santa Claus, held a
meeting one day to discuss the matter. "I'm really getting lonesome," said
the Daemon of Selfishness.

"For Santa Claus distributes so many pretty Christmas gifts to all the
children that they become happy and generous, through his example, and
keep away from my cave." "I'm having the same trouble," rejoined the

Daemon of Envy. "The little ones seem quite content with Santa Claus, and
there are few, indeed, that I can coax to become envious." "And that makes
it bad for me!" declared the Daemon of Hatred.

"For if no children pass through the Caves of Selfishness and Envy, none
can get to MY cavern." "Or to mine," added the Daemon of Malice.

"For my part," said the Daemon of Repentance, "it is easily seen that if
children do not visit your caves they have no need to visit mine; so that I am
quite as neglected as you are." "And all because of this person they call
Santa Claus!" exclaimed the Daemon of Envy.

"He is simply ruining our business, and something must be done at once."
To this they readily agreed; but what to do was another and more difficult
matter to settle.

They knew that Santa Claus worked all through the year at his castle in the
Laughing Valley, preparing the gifts he was to distribute on Christmas Eve;
and at first they resolved to try to tempt him into their caves, that they might
lead him on to the terrible pitfalls that ended in destruction.

So the very next day, while Santa Claus was busily at work, surrounded by
his little band of assistants, the Daemon of Selfishness came to him and said:
"These toys are wonderfully bright and pretty.
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Why do you not keep them for yourself? It's a pity to give them to those
noisy boys and fretful girls, who break and destroy them so quickly."

"Nonsense!" cried the old graybeard, his bright eyes twinkling merrily as he
turned toward the tempting Daemon. "The boys and girls are never so noisy
and fretful after receiving my presents, and if I can make them happy for one
day in the year I am quite content." So the Daemon went back to the others,
who awaited him in their caves, and said:

"I have failed, for Santa Claus is not at all selfish." The following day the
Daemon of Envy visited Santa Claus.

Said he: "The toy shops are full of playthings quite as pretty as those you are
making. What a shame it is that they should interfere with your business!
They make toys by machinery much quicker than you can make them by
hand; and they sell them for money, while you get nothing at all for your
work."

But Santa Claus refused to be envious of the toy shops. "I can supply the
little ones but once a year-on Christmas Eve," he answered; "for the children
are many, and I am but one. And as my work is one of love and kindness I
would be ashamed to receive money for my little gifts.

But throughout all the year the children must be amused in some way, and so
the toy shops are able to bring much happiness to my little friends. I like the
toy shops, and am glad to see them prosper." In spite of the second rebuff,
the Daemon of Hatred thought he would try to influence Santa Claus.
So the next day he entered the busy workshop and said:

"Good morning, Santa! I have bad news for you."
"Then run away, like a good fellow," answered Santa Claus. "Bad news is
something that should be kept secret and never told."

"You cannot escape this, however," declared the Daemon; "for in the world
are a good many who do not believe in Santa Claus, and these you are bound
to hate bitterly, since they have so wronged you." "Stuff and rubbish!" cried
Santa.

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"And there are others who resent your making children happy and who sneer
at you and call you a foolish old rattlepate! You are quite right to hate such
base slanderers, and you ought to be revenged upon them for their evil
words." "But I don't hate 'em!" exclaimed Santa Claus positively.

"Such people do me no real harm, but merely render themselves and their
children unhappy. Poor things!

I'd much rather help them any day than injure them." Indeed, the Daemons
could not tempt old Santa Claus in any way. On the contrary, he was shrewd
enough to see that their object in visiting him was to make mischief and
trouble, and his cheery laughter disconcerted the evil ones and showed to
them the folly of such an undertaking.

So they abandoned honeyed words and determined to use force. It was well
known that no harm can come to Santa Claus while he is in the Laughing
Valley, for the fairies, and ryls, and knooks all protect him.

But on Christmas Eve he drives his reindeer out into the big world, carrying
a sleighload of toys and pretty gifts to the children; and this was the time and
the occasion when his enemies had the best chance to injure him. So the
Daemons laid their plans and awaited the arrival of Christmas Eve.

The moon shone big and white in the sky, and the snow lay crisp and
sparkling on the ground as Santa Claus cracked his whip and sped away out
of the Valley into the great world beyond. The roomy sleigh was packed full
with huge sacks of toys, and as the reindeer dashed onward our jolly old
Santa laughed and whistled and sang for very joy.

For in all his merry life this was the one day in the year when he was
happiest-the day he lovingly bestowed the treasures of his workshop upon
the little children. It would be a busy night for him, he well knew.

As he whistled and shouted and cracked his whip again, he reviewed in mind
all the towns and cities and farmhouses where he was expected, and figured
that he had just enough presents to go around and make every child happy.
The reindeer knew exactly what was expected of them, and dashed along so
swiftly that their feet scarcely seemed to touch the snow-covered ground.

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Suddenly a strange thing happened: a rope shot through the moonlight and a
big noose that was in the end of it settled over the arms and body of Santa
Claus and drew tight. Before he could resist or even cry out he was jerked
from the seat of the sleigh and tumbled head foremost into a snowbank,
while the reindeer rushed onward with the load of toys and carried it quickly
out of sight and sound.

Such a surprising experience confused old Santa for a moment, and when he
had collected his senses he found that the wicked Daemons had pulled him
from the snowdrift and bound him tightly ith many coils of the stout rope.
And then they carried the kidnapped Santa Claus away to their mountain,
where they thrust the prisoner into a secret cave and chained him to the

rocky wall so that he could not escape.

"Ha, ha!" laughed the Daemons, rubbing their hands together with cruel
glee. "What will the children do now? How they will cry and scold and
storm when they find there are no toys in their stockings and no gifts on their
Christmas trees!

And what a lot of punishment they will receive from their parents, and how
they will flock to our Caves of Selfishness, and Envy, and Hatred, and
Malice! We have done a mighty clever thing, we Daemons of the Caves!"
Now it so chanced that on this Christmas Eve the good Santa Claus had
taken with him in his sleigh Nuter the Ryl, Peter the Knook, Kilter the Pixie,
and a small fairy named Wisk-his four favorite assistants.

These little people he had often found very useful in helping him to
distribute his gifts to the children, and when their master was so suddenly
dragged from the sleigh they were all snugly tucked underneath the seat,
where the sharp wind could not reach them. The tiny immortals knew
nothing of the capture of Santa Claus until some time after he had
disappeared.

But finally they missed his cheery voice, and as their master always sang or
whistled on his journeys, the silence warned them that something was
wrong. Little Wisk stuck out his head from underneath the seat and found
Santa Claus gone and no one to direct the flight of the reindeer. "Whoa!" he
called out, and the deer obediently slackened speed and came to a halt. Peter
and Nuter and Kilter all jumped upon the seat and looked back over the track
made by the sleigh.
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But Santa Claus had been left miles and miles behind. "What shall we do?"
asked Wisk anxiously, all the mirth and mischief banished from his wee face
by this great calamity. "We must go back at once and find our master," said
Nuter the Ryl, who thought and spoke with much deliberation.

"No, no!" exclaimed Peter the Knook, who, cross and crabbed though he
was, might always be depended upon in an emergency. "If we delay, or go
back, there will not be time to get the toys to the children before morning;
and that would grieve Santa Claus more than anything else." "It is certain
that some wicked creatures have captured him," added Kilter thoughtfully,
"and their object must be to make the children unhappy.

So our first duty is to get the toys distributed as carefully as if Santa Claus
were himself present. Afterward we can search for our master and easily
secure his freedom." This seemed such good and sensible advice that the
others at once resolved to adopt it.

So Peter the Knook called to the reindeer, and the faithful animals again
sprang forward and dashed over hill and valley, through forest and plain,
until they came to the houses wherein children lay sleeping and dreaming of
the pretty gifts they would find on Christmas morning.

The little immortals had set themselves a difficult task; for although they had
assisted Santa Claus on many of his journeys, their master had always
directed and guided them and told them exactly what he wished them to do.
But now they had to distribute the toys according to their own judgment, and
they did not understand children as well as did old Santa. So it is no wonder
they made some laughable errors.

Mamie Brown, who wanted a doll, got a drum instead; and a drum is of no
use to a girl who loves dolls. And Charlie Smith, who delights to romp and
play out of doors, and who wanted some new rubber boots to keep his feet
dry, received a sewing box filled with colored worsteds and threads and
needles, which made him so provoked that he thoughtlessly called our dear
Santa Claus a fraud.

Had there been many such mistakes the Daemons would have accomplished
their evil purpose and made the children unhappy. But the little friends of
the absent Santa Claus labored faithfully and intelligently to carry out their
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master's ideas, and they made fewer errors than might be expected under
such unusual circumstances.

And, although they worked as swiftly as possible, day had begun to break
before the toys and other presents were all distributed; so for the first time in
many years the reindeer trotted into the Laughing Valley, on their return, in
broad daylight, with the brilliant sun peeping over the edge of the forest to
prove they were far behind their accustomed hours. Having put the deer in
the stable, the little folk began to wonder how they might rescue their
master; and they realized they must discover, first of all, what had happened
to him and where he was.

So Wisk the Fairy transported himself to the bower of the Fairy Queen,
which was located deep in the heart of the Forest of Burzee; and once there,
it did not take him long to find out all about the naughty Daemons and how
they had kidnapped the good Santa Claus to prevent his making children
happy. The Fairy Queen also promised her assistance, and then, fortified by
this powerful support, Wisk flew back to where Nuter and Peter and Kilter

awaited him, and the four counseled together and laid plans to rescue their
master from his enemies.

It is possible that Santa Claus was not as merry as usual during the night that
succeeded his capture. For although he had faith in the judgment of his little
friends he could not avoid a certain amount of worry, and an anxious look
would creep at times into his kind old eyes as he thought of the
disappointment that might await his dear little children.

And the Daemons, who guarded him by turns, one after another, did not
neglect to taunt him with contemptuous words in his helpless condition.
When Christmas Day dawned the Daemon of Malice was guarding the
prisoner, and his tongue was sharper than that of any of the others. "The
children are waking up, Santa!" he cried.

"They are waking up to find their stockings empty! Ho, ho! How they will
quarrel, and wail, and stamp their feet in anger! Our caves will be full today,
old Santa! Our caves are sure to be full!" But to this, as to other like taunts,
Santa Claus answered nothing. He was much grieved by his capture, it is
true; but his courage did not forsake him. And, finding that the prisoner
would not reply to his jeers, the Daemon of Malice presently went away, and
sent the Daemon of Repentance to take his place. This last personage was
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not so disagreeable as the others. He had gentle and refined features, and his
voice was soft and pleasant in tone. "My brother Daemons do not trust me
overmuch," said he, as he entered the cavern; "but it is morning, now, and
the mischief is done.

You cannot visit the children again for another year." "That is true,"

answered Santa Claus, almost cheerfully; "Christmas Eve is past, and for the
first time in centuries I have not visited my children." "The little ones will be
greatly disappointed," murmured the Daemon of Repentance, almost
regretfully; "but that cannot be helped now. Their grief is likely to make the
children selfish and envious and hateful, and if they come to the Caves of the
Daemons today I shall get a chance to lead some of them to my Cave of
Repentance."

"Do you never repent, yourself?" asked Santa Claus, curiously. "Oh, yes,
indeed," answered the Daemon. "I am even now repenting that I assisted in
your capture.

Of course it is too late to remedy the evil that has been done; but repentance,
you know, can come only after an evil thought or deed, for in the beginning
there is nothing to repent of."So I understand," said Santa Claus. "Those
who avoid evil need never visit your cave."

"As a rule, that is true," replied the Daemon; "yet you, who have done no
evil, are about to visit my cave at once; for to prove that I sincerely regret
my share in your capture I am going to permit you to escape." This speech
greatly surprised the prisoner, until he reflected that it was just what might
be expected of the Daemon of Repentance. The fellow at once busied
himself untying the knots that bound Santa Claus and unlocking the chains
that fastened him to the wall. Then he led the way through a long tunnel
until they both emerged in the Cave of Repentance. "I hope you will forgive
me," said the Daemon pleadingly. "I am not really a bad person, you know;
and I believe I accomplish a great deal of good in the world." With this he
opened a back door that let in a flood of sunshine, and Santa Claus sniffed
the fresh air gratefully. "I bear no malice," said he to the Daemon, in a gentle
voice; "and I am sure the world would be a dreary place without you. So,

good morning, and a Merry Christmas to you!"

With these words he stepped out to greet the bright morning, and a moment
later he was trudging along, whistling softly to himself, on his way to his
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home in the Laughing Valley. Marching over the snow toward the mountain
was a vast army, made up of the most curious creatures imaginable. There
were numberless knooks from the forest, as rough and crooked in
appearance as the gnarled branches of the trees they ministered to. And there
were dainty ryls from the fields, each one bearing the emblem of the flower
or plant it guarded. Behind these were many ranks of pixies, gnomes and
nymphs, and in the rear a thousand beautiful fairies floated along in
gorgeous array.

This wonderful army was led by Wisk, Peter, Nuter, and Kilter, who had
assembled it to rescue Santa Claus from captivity and to punish the
Daemons who had dared to take him away from his beloved children. And,
although they looked so bright and peaceful, the little immortals were armed
with powers that would be very terrible to those who had incurred their
anger. Woe to the Daemons of the Caves if this mighty army of vengeance
ever met them! But lo! coming to meet his loyal friends appeared the
imposing form of Santa Claus, his white beard floating in the breeze and his
bright eyes sparkling with pleasure at this proof of the love and veneration
he had inspired in the hearts of the most powerful creatures in existence.
And while they clustered around him and danced with glee at his safe return,
he gave them earnest thanks for their support.

But Wisk, and Nuter, and Peter, and Kilter, he embraced affectionately. "It is
useless to pursue the Daemons," said Santa Claus to the army. "They have

their place in the world, and can never be destroyed.
But that is a great pity, nevertheless," he continued musingly. So the fairies,
and knooks, and pixies, and ryls all escorted the good man to his castle, and
there left him to talk over the events of the night with his little assistants.

Wisk had already rendered himself invisible and flown through the big
world to see how the children were getting along on this bright Christmas
morning; and by the time he returned, Peter had finished telling Santa Claus
of how they had distributed the toys. "We really did very well," cried the
fairy, in a pleased voice; "for I found little unhappiness among the children
this morning. Still, you must not get captured again, my dear master; for we
might not be so fortunate another time in carrying out your ideas." He then
related the mistakes that had been made, and which he had not discovered
until his tour of inspection. And Santa Claus at once sent him with rubber
boots for Charlie Smith, and a doll for Mamie Brown; so that even those two
disappointed ones became happy.
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As for the wicked Daemons of the Caves, they were filled with anger and
chagrin when they found that their clever capture of Santa Claus had come
to naught. Indeed, no one on that Christmas Day appeared to be at all selfish,
or envious, or hateful,And, realizing that while the children's saint had so
many powerful friends it was folly to oppose him, the Daemons never again
attempted to interfere with his journeys on Christmas Eve.

(The end)